


Lost in Translation

by Spirit_catcher



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 23-year-old virgin Katsuki Yuuri, Canon-Compliant, Demisexual Yuuri, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Everyone Loves Katsuki Yuuri, Fluff, Gen, Humour, Katsuki Yuuri is demisexual fight me, Katsuki Yuuri was a virgin before Victor, M/M, Podium Family, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 01, Russian Skating Family, VictUuri, Yuri Plisetsky's Nickname Is Yurio, Yuri teaches Yuuri Russian, Yuuri in Russia, learning russian, viktuuri, yurio is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 07:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13875819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spirit_catcher/pseuds/Spirit_catcher
Summary: Yuuri has moved to Russia to train and live with Victor, and he's trying to learn Russian... With or without legit help.





	Lost in Translation

Mila and Georgi had joined Yuuri and Victor for a rare joint lunchtime during practice when Yuuri finally felt brave enough to try out the newly learned Russian phrases he had been working on learning in his spare time. The last he had seen Yuri was still rink-side, no doubt being berated by Yakov for Face-Timing Otabek while he was meant to be warming up for practice with the rest of them. But the brusque teen not being there actually made him feel a little less pressure for this. 

Gesturing to the leftover borscht he and Victor had both brought to eat, Yuuri cleared his throat carefully said “Knut i tsepi vozbuzhdayut menya”. And waited. 

Everyone present choked. Which was definitely not the reaction he had hoped for, let alone anticipated. 

Mila and Georgi refused to meet his eyes. Thankfully Victor was able to meet his gaze, though the look he returned was decidedly closed. “What do you think ‘Knut i tsepi vozbuzhdayut menya’ means, Yuuri?” he asked slowly, brow furrowed and eyes ever-so-slightly narrowed.

“’This food is good’?” Yuuri said, in English this time, thinking he had pronounced part (or perhaps all) of it wrong in Russian. 

Victor schooled his face into a well-practiced neutral expression, one Yuuri recognised it from numerous interviews over the years. 

“What else have you been learning to say?” Victor continued, in the same carefully light voice.

“Um, well, I had to have them written down for me using English letters, because I still don’t really know any Cyrillic…” Yuuri reached into a pocket of his sweatpants and pulled out a crinkled sheet of lined note paper. “But so far I know ‘YA tolstaya svin'ya’, ‘Vlast' koshek, sobaka slyuni’, - “

Mila face-palmed. Georgi covered his mouth with both hands, but his shaking shoulders failed to hide his suppressed laughter. Victor patiently let Yuuri finish rattling off the phrases on the list. 

“… and ‘Moy zhenikh - der'movaya golova”, Yuuri finished, unable to hide the hint of pride in his voice. He’d learned these phrases for Victor, after all. 

Victor bit his lip - what was that odd exasperated look he was trying to keep in check? - and gave Yuuri’s hand a gentle squeeze before standing up. 

“YURIO!” he yelled. And without further ado, he turned and strode away in the direction of the ice rink. 

Yuuri, confused and at a loss as to what had just happened, turned to his remaining dining companions. “Did I say it wrong?”

“Oh, no, definitely not”, Georgi snickered. “Especially not the first one, about how good the food is.”

Any trace of hopefulness on Yuuri’s face slid away, replaced entirely by worry. He bit his lip timidly. “I just… I just wanted to learn some Russian. To surprise Victor.”

“Oh, you definitely surprised him, all right”. Mila smirked, but not unkindly. 

Yuuri’s face turned ashen at that. “Oh no”, he croaked. “Oh no, what did I say?”

But Mila and Georgi suddenly decided to return their full attention to their food. 

Victor returned a short time later, dragging a somewhat deflated-looking teenager with him. 

Unsurprising, Yuri didn’t have the grace to look ashamed, even when he caught sight of Victor’s now livid face and severely quirked eyebrow. “How did you know it was me?”

Victor deadpanned. “Who else would teach him to say ‘My fiancé is a shit-head’?”

Yuuri blanched. “Victor, I swear, I had no idea -!”

Georgi patted a shocked and betrayed Yuuri on the back. “We figured as much. You are not the one to blame here.” With last words, the other Russian man joined Victor in glaring pointedly at Yuri. 

“Ah, yeah…” Yuri’s face broke into a self-appreciating grin. “It was too good an opportunity to miss! You coming to ask me for help learning to speak Russian”, he clarified. He jiggled his hands in the pockets of his team jacket, but otherwise continued to look pleased with himself. 

Victor was less amused. “What do you say to Yuuri?”

Yuri glanced at the Japanese man who shared his name. “Um… Good thing I didn’t teach you that one I was going to get you to say to Yakov?”

Despite howled protests, no one went to the teenager’s rescue when Victor kicked his feet out from under him before shoving him over to Mila to pick up and bench press with.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (apologies for any mistakes, I used Google Translate):
> 
> Knut i tsepi vozbuzhdayut menya = Whips and chains excite me
> 
> YA tolstaya svin'ya = I’m a fat piggy
> 
> Vlast' koshek, sobaka slyuni = Cats rule, dogs drool
> 
> Moy zhenikh - der'movaya golova = My fiancé is a shit-head


End file.
